heart still ached when she thought of Richard, but somewhere over the last couple of years the intense, breath-robbing pain had eased. It had been three years since he’d died and slowly she’d come to accept that it was time to start a new chapter in her life. She’d promised Richard, after all.
Unexpectedly, an image of the man she’d met in the car park flashed into her head. Despite his bad taste in chat-up lines, he really was a hunk—if you liked that sort of casual look. He’d been unshaven—not totally professional for a surgeon—but she only had to think of his grin and her heart turned over.
She pushed the image away. Men were still off the agenda. Typical, though. The first time she had found a man that had made her pulse bounce, he was an idiot. Not that what she thought made the slightest difference, given her condition. Nevertheless, she was curious.
‘I met someone in the car park,’ she said casually as Kelly shoved a herbal tea in her direction. ‘Dr Stuart, I think he said his name was. I haven’t seen him about. Is he new?’
Kelly eyed her with amused exasperation. ‘Not you too! What planet have you been on? The nurses and female doctors have been talking about nothing else lately. Dr Stuart has joined us from New York. Started last week.’ Kelly always knew everything about the hospital. She made it her business to know. ‘He was in this morning when we admitted a patient with a head injury. I’d almost swear the nurses arranged it so they could get him down here for a consult!’ Kelly’s eyes were twinkling as she lifted an eyebrow. ‘Don’t tell me he’s managed to capture the cool Dr Simpson’s attention? That would be a first.’
Olivia moved across to the board keeping her back towards Kelly so she wouldn’t see that her face was hot. ‘Don’t be silly, Kelly. I’m hardly in the market for a man.’
‘Just as well,’ Kelly replied. ‘In the short time he’s been at the hospital he’s taken two of the staff out on dates. The man is a mass of walking pheromones. Let’s hope he’s as good a surgeon as he is at making pulses rise.’
Olivia felt curiously disappointed. So the way he’d looked at her, as if she were the only woman in the world, was all an act. But why should it matter? As she’d told Kelly, she wasn’t looking for a relationship. She had more than enough to be getting on with.
The phone that linked them to the emergency services rang and Olivia’s attention focussed on Kelly.
‘We’ll expect you,’ Kelly said, replacing the phone after listening for a few moments. She stood and immediately was all business. ‘Male. Forty. Suspected stroke. ETA ten minutes. Let’s get to work.’
Although Brad Schwimmer was displaying the signs of someone who had some sort of cerebral event, Olivia wasn’t sure what it was. His speech was unintelligible and he was disoriented, but Olivia didn’t believe he’d had a stroke.
His wife, a distraught woman in her early thirties called Sally, watched anxiously as the nurses cut away her husband’s clothes and attached him to the monitors.
‘I did the school run. I was away longer than usual—for over an hour. I met a friend I hadn’t seen for a while and we chatted. When I got back I thought he’d gone to work, but then I went into the kitchen and he was just lying there.’
‘BP one hundred and two over fifty-six, pulse rapid and weak,’ one of the nurses called out.
‘How was he this morning?’ Olivia asked. ‘Was he complaining of anything? A headache? Feeling dizzy? Sick?’
‘No, he’d just come back from his run before I left. He goes every morning before work—when he’s at home, that is.’
‘Does he travel much?’ ‘He’s a sales executive. He travels out of the country for a few days most weeks. Is he going to be all right? Please! You have to help him!’
‘We’ll do everything we can, I promise. But first we’re going to have to do a few tests to find out what exactly we’re dealing with. Would you like to wait in the family room?’
‘I want to stay with him. Please let me. I promise I won’t get in your way.’
‘Okay, Sally. He’ll probably find it reassuring to have you here. Talk to him. It’s possible that he can still hear what we’re saying even though he’s not responding. When was he last away?’
‘He just came back from Thailand yesterday.’
Thailand. Recent foreign travel added a long list of possible diagnoses they had to rule out. Although rare, Japanese encephalitis was one possibility.
‘Was he vaccinated for encephalitis? And did he take prophylaxis for malaria before he left?’ she asked. Cerebral malaria was something else she should exclude.
‘He always takes the meds he’s supposed to. He knows the risks if he doesn’t. He’s very particular about his health.’
‘Could we get a consult from Infectious Diseases?’ Olivia asked. Something wasn’t adding up. ‘In the meantime, let’s get a CT scan of his head and draw blood for a full infection screen, including malaria. Keep him on twenty-eight per cent oxygen.’
‘Dr Simpson?’ One of the interns popped her head through the door. ‘Dr Scutari is asking for help in room two if you’re free?’
Olivia peeled off her gloves and apron and chucked them in the bin. ‘I’m on my way.’ She turned to the nurses. ‘I’ll be next door. Call me if there is any change, or when the attending from Infectious Diseases gets here.’
This was typical of the ER on a weekday morning. Often it was busy and there was no predicting what they’d get in. It was what she loved about working here. Not everyone enjoyed the high-octane atmosphere, but most of them who worked in the department loved the buzz.
She helped the intern deal with his patient, a straightforward MI, then returned to Resus and was surprised to find Dr Stuart bending over her patient. However, if she was surprised to see him, he looked floored to see her.
‘You’re a doctor! Why didn’t you say?’ he said, glancing up at her.
Because you didn’t give me the chance. Because once you saw I was pregnant, I might as well have been invisible. Of course none of that could be said out loud but it didn’t mean she wasn’t enjoying his discomfort. That would teach him to go around introducing himself as a neurosurgeon to strange women.
‘I’m Dr Olivia Simpson. ER resident.’ She smiled briefly in his direction. In the time she’d been away, dealing with the other patient, Brad had lost some of his pallor. However, there was no improvement in his conscious level. ‘I didn’t ask for a neuro consult.’ She raised her voice. ‘Do we have Brad’s CT scan?’
‘I have it here.’ Candice, one of the ER nurses, flicked on a screen.
‘Besides, aren’t you supposed to be in Theatre—saving lives?’ Olivia couldn’t resist adding, sotto voce, as he stepped alongside her to study the scan.
He didn’t even look mildly embarrassed. ‘I was. Job done. I was at a loose end so I thought I’d come down to the ER to see if you had anything for me. Failing that, I hoped to scrounge a cup of coffee.’
Job done? She couldn’t have been in the department more than twenty minutes
